The a-board on the street read, 'Unisex Hairdressing Salon.' John walked past it, and down the narrow alley to where an open door led up a flight of stairs. There, at the top of the stairs, was the salon.
"Hi Angie!" He called out as he went through the door, holding his arms wide to embrace his red haired friend. They kissed long, and with tongue wrestling passion, as both of them were very pleased to see each other again.
"So, how are things with you?" she asked, as John sat down in a salon chair, before having a long cape placed around his neck and fastened at the back.
"Fine! And you look good enough to eat as usual." He told her, while she stood behind him, starring into the large mirror opposite, and grinning at him knowingly, stuck her tongue out.
"All on your own this lunchtime?" he asked his auburn beauty, as she still pulled faces at him in the mirror.
"Christine, my boss, has gone home for an hour, so little old me is in sole command." She fluffed up his long hair, and ran her fingers through it, before asking him with a wicked wink, " and how would sir like it today?"
"Oh, you know me, my love - simply serve it up, all hot and horny, with a dash of utter filth thrown in for good measure. I mean, who wants to mess around with boring old fashioned foreplay, when a girl's simply gagging for it?"
Angie feigned a snarl, and grabbing him by the hair, pulled his head back hard to whisper in his ear.
"Now listen here, we'll have non of your naughty fucky ways today. Someone might come back at any moment and catch us." She let go of his hair and came round the front of the chair to face him, and provocatively rested a knee on his right leg, showing him her wide-open crotch, all be it hidden under her jeans, but well known to John in ever way.
"I'm sure I can still smell that Mazola oil on your hair. You haven't been to another one of those parties have you?" She demanded, feeling hurt.
"No, honest! I'd only ever go with you." John insisted, as he watched Angie continue to stroke her crotch, in a delicious lewd manner through her tight jeans.
"Shit, I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw that circle of straw bales with a great tarpaulin thrown over it, and five gallons of Mazola cooking oil, shimmering in the center. I thought there's no way I'm getting my kit off, and diving it there!"
"Well you did, and didn't we have some fun?" He said, reminding her of that hot summers night at a friend's farm.
"There was quite a lot of standing around drinking, and wondering who'd be the first?" Angie said, still rubbing herself for him. "It was that girl with her pubes dyed bright green, and 'keep off the grass,' written across her stomach, who just dived in, and every one followed." She pressed hard on her now, quivering quim, and clenched her teeth, adding, "talk about a Roman orgy, I've never seen twenty randy people, trying to fuck each other with such wild determination in all my life. Slippery as an eel, wasn't in it."
John thought that the Romans would have used olive oil, which at least tasted better, and smelt better than Mazola cooking oil.
"Yes, but remember they had slaves to clean them up afterwards, not just paper towels." Angie pointed out, remembering being rubbed down by an oily girl, who proudly told her that she'd lost count of how many times she'd been taken in the slimy pit of pleasure." She suddenly laughed, and wanted to know. "What was the name of that young man who looked like a jockey? You knew him -- Small, funny looking guy!"
"Jim! And you're right, he did look like a jockey."
"Yes, that's him," Angie giggled. " Well, remember when he screamed out that some bastard had got a cock stuck up his arse, and everyone sliding around on the tarpaulin shouted back, 'you should be so lucky!' Shit! I nearly wet myself laughing. I know I'd certainly had all my holes well and truly stuffed that night, no mistaking. I could hardly walk the next day."
"We must do that again sometime," John told her. "But what about your boss? Why are you worried about being caught by her? I thought you and the boss had an understanding on matters sexual. Isn't she always at you? Taking your sweet breath away, or something like that?" John wondered.
"Not any longer." Angie pulled a face, and flicked her auburn fringe out of her eyes, and stopped touching herself. " We now have a little apprentice called Tara, and it seems the management can't keep her hands off the new girl. You should see how they both stay on at night pretending to lock up the salon. I popped back one night saying that I'd left my bag, and caught the two of them at it."
"At what?"
"What do you think?"
"Well ... I'm not exactly sure what to think." John teased her.
"The boss only had little Tara's knickers off, and was down on her while she lay back in this very chair."
John gave a shudder, and added smiling, "I've had you in this very chair too, remember? Several times!"
"I know that, but - its just - well, I felt a bit spare all of a sudden seeing the two of them at it like that. I felt kind of surplus to requirements."
"Hey, you come here and let me cuddle you, you poor thing. I still love you. You'll never be spare to me." He held out his arms from under the cape and Angie bending over, rocked gently in his arms.
John slipped a hand up her long slender legs, and stroked her shapely bottom for her. "It's been too long since you let me have your pretty little self." He reminded her, feeling suddenly very horny for her right there and then.
